


Realizations

by Gadhar



Series: Desiderata [3]
Category: The Expendables (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2518787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gadhar/pseuds/Gadhar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s hearing Lee’s words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Realizations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wanderingsmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/gifts).



Lee thinks there must be have been an explosion or something. Something that could explain why he can’t hear anything, even with all the signs of battle that must be going on around him.

He wonders if they’re losing.

It _feels_ like they are.

Like he’s losing.

Losing his grip on reality because when the initial dust clears, when most of the muzzle flashes die off because there are no longer targets, Lee can see Barney.

And he’s just sitting there, a man next to him with a knife held up in surrender. 

It’s all in slow-motion, the way the knife goes up, to hang in the air, the way his eyes slip to see Barney, face slack, eyes blank.

Nothing.

He’s doing absolutely nothing.

Lee lunges forward with a knife, feels it go through skin, blood flowing out over his hand and the enemy crumples to the ground.

Lee doesn’t even care if he’s dead.

He keeps his eyes on Barney the entire time. Watching him. Seeing him do _nothing._

And he thinks maybe Barney’s hurt more than he initially thought, or maybe Barney’s drugged, or even waiting for the right moment.

But Lee can see all the injuries and knows Barney’s been through worse.

Lee can see those eyes clearly too. They’re sharp, focused. Focused on him. But they’re dark and they’re empty—not glassy wide pupils.

And he knows that the right moment would have been the second that knife went into the air—the second Barney saw Lee and the rest of them. That would have been the right moment to snarl and spit, to make a nasty comment, or throw a snide, teasing remark their way; to nod his head and say ‘I told you so’ to his kidnapper, to be happy his team had come.

That would have been the right moment.

For something.

But Barney does nothing.

_Nothing._

When they’re on the plane and Doc’s at Barney’s side, patching him up, all Lee can do is stare. It still hasn’t processed.

He doesn’t know what it means if Barney’s just letting things happen now. If he’s not fighting.

He’s always been fighter. Always had heart.

Lee saw neither of those things. _Has_ seen neither of those things for too long now. 

Barney’s just...done. He just gave in. _Gave up._

For Barney to just– _fuck._ Lee sucks in a breath, grips his knees to stop the shaking and tries to breathe.

He gave up. Just _stopped._

Barney isn’t supposed to give up. He’s not supposed to just— just roll over and take the hits.

It’s wrong and it– it – it _pisses him off._

What right does Barney have to just give up?

To act like he doesn’t matter?

To just say fuck it all and die?

He doesn't get to do that. He doesn't get to just– just _leave._

Not again. 

Lee clenches his fists, gritting his teeth against the rage, the pure indignation. He’s not sure who he’s more mad at, the world or Barney fucking Ross.

“Easy there, friend,” Someone says and there’s a hand tugging him back down when he hadn’t even realized he was standing. And then it’s settling on his shoulder, holding him down.

“You look ready to kill with a face like that. Can you tell me where the enemy is? So I can be ready? It’s quite a thing for them to sneak aboard our plane after we shot them all.”

“What are you doing, Galgo?”

“Stopping you from doing something incredibly stupid.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Lee hisses. 

“Uh-huh, that’s why you’ve been clenching your fists and grinding your teeth so loudly I could hear you from over there. That’s why you were standing, ready to pounce.”

“I wasn’t–“

“You _were._ Now, tell me, who exactly were you going to punch? Doc, or Mr. Ross?”

“Shut up, Galgo.” Lee’s unsure if Galgo’s actually trying to help or just fuck with him. Because he’s certainly not making Lee any less angry than he already is.

“Oh, come now, don’t be like that. Tell Galgo everything. I am good at this, really.” Galgo’s grinning, bumping their shoulders together and talking close–like they’re two friends sharing a joke. 

_“Galgo–”_

“Lee,” Galgo says, tone low, voice firm. The smile is gone and there is a deep seriousness to his face. Something that comes from a lot of history and pain. “I talked to Barney not long ago. I have talked to the others as well. I don’t know what the problem is, that’s true. But I know love when I see it. And you two, you and Barney...”

Galgo’s voice drops off as he leans forward, arms on his knees. “I can see you punching Doc, he was very close to Barney at one time, no? He seems a little close now too. Too close. That should be you, right? Over there, patching up battle wounds?”

“It doesn’t matter who does it, as long as _someone_ does.”

“Yes, that _someone_ being you. Now, I’m going to offer some free advice. And, I know you do not like me so much, and that you may not want to take it. But you do have to listen.”

“I don’t have to–”

“You _do._ Because if you have any intention of being that man again, the one next to Barney instead of the one over here, listening to me blather, you need to hear this.”

Lee feels the shift. Anger slipping away to the same numbness he’s let rule his mind the past few weeks. He doesn’t know what keeps him there, waiting, at Galgo’s side listening to something he’s not sure he wants to hear.

“He is a noble man, you ever notice that?”

“If you're just going to sing his praises then I’m going to throw you out the fucking plane.”

“No, actually. I’m just stating facts. He is noble. Noble and foolish. He has hurt you, deeply, I can tell. You wear your heart on your sleeve. And I have to say, I would have said something sooner but I had hope you would two would work it out amongst yourselves.”

“And what changed?”

“You. Him. You don't need me to tell you that the pain has long since gone numb. That hope has withered. I will not stand by and do nothing.”

“This really isn’t you business, Galgo .”

“But it _is._ I told Barney and now I will tell you. We are family. You are a brother to me now, whether you like me or not. And we have seen too much pain in our lives to let something as ridiculous as this go on. He loves you. _Loves_ you. Do you understand what that is to him? It’s protecting you. Above all else it’s making sure you’re alive and happy and safe. He spends his life seeing plenty of people unsafe, unhappy, and dead. They’re connected, in his mind. Do you see? He thinks, if you’re safe, the rest will follow. He thinks you’re unsafe with him. Close to him.”

“He thinks he has a right to do whatever the fuck he wants.”

“ _For you._ You need to look past the pain. You think he is good at this? Loving a man almost as hard and jaded as he is? Loving someone who has seen too much, felt too much? Loving that man and knowing that he can do nothing to stop whatever pain you’ve already experienced, whatever ghosts haunt you? Knowing he cannot lift a single finger to stop any further pain you may feel.”

“Well he’s done a fair job at fucking that up, wouldn’t you say? He’s the one who caused all this. If he really didn't want to hurt me, then why the fuck is he doing it?”

Galgo gives him an even look and Lee stops, focusing on slowing his breathing. He can feel the eyes of the others on him. He almost yelled there, spoke loud enough for them all to hear. 

He looks over and Barney’s out, head leaning back with his eyes closed.

How convenient.

When he looks back to Galgo, he’s being glared at. Something heated in the Spaniard eyes.

“I thought he was the dumber one between the two of you, but now, I think it may be you. He tried to end all of his demons on his own, so you wouldn't see his pain, Lee. Because he knows that hurts you. He pushes you away because everyone else near him has been hurt and he’s trying to stop it from happening to you. But, that distance kills you, because you _love him._ And he gets that. And he doesn't know how to fix it. He doesn't know love without pain, Lee. Not many people do. But he doesn't know it with a whole lot of happiness either. He believes in only the moments. He doesn't believe in the longevity of it. _You do._ You need to make him believe that.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that, huh? If this is really all my fault then what the hell do can I do to fix it?”

“It isn’t all your fault. But your stubbornness certainly counts for something. He left you. Don't leave him. Don't let his jaded view of the world succeed. All you’re doing is letting that little voice in his head, the one that tells him how worthless and damaging he is, win. You feel pain so let him see it, let him feel it. Make him if you have to. And let him know it isn’t because of him. It’s because you _love_ him. That’s part of what love is–sharing each other's pain.”

“You want me to beg? Is that it? Beg to have him back? After– after....”

“No. I want you both happy. Now, what I think you should do is stay by his side, never leave him alone. Fight against the part of him that’s damn near narcissistic, the part that tears him down and opens him to the pain. I think you should work to be the wall against that. And I think he should be your wall, against all the demons up here,” Galgo taps the side of his head and lets a soft smile curve his lips as he looks down for a moment.

Lee has to wonder what he’s thinking about, probably whatever has Galgo talking like this. That has him sounding so damn _wise_ it’s infuriating. 

“But,” Galgo meets his gaze again. “But, whatever you do is up to you of course. You have to _want_ it.” Galgo gives him a grin and pats his shoulder, giving him a firm squeeze before standing and joining Doc, who has long sinced moved to the other part of the plane, away from the others.

Away from Barney.

Lee stares at Barney for a few minutes, taking in the tense expression even in sleep. 

Something twists in his gut but he pushes it away, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

He lets in the dark as Galgo’s words bounce around in his mind.

xxxx

He finds Barney in the hangar, sitting and staring, a beer bottle to his lips.

He had words in his head, had plotted out everything he was going to say. Even wrote down his actions. It’s all written on a post-it note he has in his pocket. 

But when he sees Barney, just sitting there, all he can think about is how he had been sitting there, just like that, when in the hands of enemies.

And the memory of all the words leaves his head.

Lee swallows and all he can say is, “Hey.”

Barney looks at him then, and nothing moves in his eyes. They remain dark. They show no recognition, no acknowledgement, no light.

They’re somehow deader than a corpse’s. Less than human.

“Hey.”

“I...about the– the rescue– I–”

“Sorry you had to do that. Must’ve been hard, saving my ass,” Barney says, like he’s...bored...

“No, it was...” What the fuck is he supposed to say? “That’s not what I meant. I just...” Lee trails off, shrugging. It’s not supposed to be like this. This...awkwardness. They’ve known each other for _years._ How did it get to this?

He had come here with rage in his hands, love in his heart, and a determination to _do_ something. Whether that meant talking or fighting, Lee hadn’t known but he had been prepared for either. He didn’t have a plan for this. Didn’t even have a notion of what to do.

Things had been cut, severed. But he had never felt that Barney was lost. That he had lost Barney. 

And now, when Barney continues to stare at him like– like he’s _nothing._ He can’t.

He just can’t. 

“Say something,” Lee says. 

“What?”

“Say _something._ Anything. Just...just _say something.”_

Barney stands and his expression changes, goes from that bored look to something irritated, annoyed. “Like what, Lee? What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know.” Lee shakes his head and takes a step back. “I don’t know. Just– just say something, please. Please. I feel like...” _I’m losing you._ “Giving up,” He whispers instead.

Barney tilts his head, just a fraction.

“I,” Lee licks his lips, swallows. “I’m giving up. I _feel_ like I’m– I’m...say something?”

Barney remains quiet, his lips still set in a hard line. His face showing nothing.

Lee wipes at his eyes, backs away again and mutters, _begs._ “Say something just, say something. Please. Say something?”

But Barney just stares as Lee continues his shaky steps back. His knees ready to give out. 

When Lee shoves his hands in his pocket, he can feel the note, the one he wrote of what to say. He can feel it and it sparks something in his mind. He remembers their fight, Barney just giving up, doing nothing.

Lee wants nothing more than to pull out all the knives he’s been stuck with since then.

He can’t run out of the hangar fast enough.

xxxxx

Barney stares at the spot where Lee used to be. Before he ran. He stares and feels the bottle slip from his fingers. 

He hadn’t been thinking, when Lee walked in. He had still been letting the world pass him by. He had still been building the wall around himself, to separate himself. But now...

He’s hearing Lee’s words.

_‘I’m giving up.’_

Barney chokes back a noise, clenches a hand in his own shirt as he tries to remember to breathe. Feels the rush of blood in his ears and the beat of his heart in his throat.

Something clears in his head, a little bit of the black he’s been living in lightening up. Slipping away.

The moment he’s sure he can walk without his knees buckling, he grabs his keys.

xxxx

Lee’s place is dark, nothing but the moonlight slipping in through windows. 

Barney finds Lee inside. Standing in a room, facing a wall. 

There’s an upturned table in one corner, papers littering the floor. There’s a broken lampshade and shattered glass everywhere.

Everything has a coat of dust settled over it.

And then there’s Lee, in front of the wall. Still as a statue, in nothing but his boxers

And Barney can see the clothes, the one’s he had been wearing at the hangar, torn and scattered on the floor. 

All Barney can think about is all the clothes he’s shredded when he couldn’t breathe. When he fought to get away, to get free of everything that was sucking him down. 

He walks up to Lee and pulls the Brit back against him. Takes the knife out of Lee’s loose fingers and let’s it fall to the floor. He grabs Lee’s wrists, thumbs grazing over tender skin, and pulls them tight, makes sure Lee’s stuck in his embrace, no chance of getting out.

And when Lee crumbles, falls apart in an absolute deadening silence, Barney takes the weight and eases them down to the floor. Turns Lee into his neck and keeps Lee near and close. Makes sure Lee can feel everything about him; his warmth, his life. Makes sure Lee stays grounded, right here, with him on the floor. 

Barney stays wrapped around him and stares ahead.

Stares at the wall Lee must’ve been looking at for weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> It ain't over yet.
> 
> Also, any warnings there may be throughout this thing will be posted on part one of [this.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2480603) So check there, if you're ever concerned.


End file.
